


Once Upon A Midnight

by SoDoLaFaMiDoRe, vienn_peridot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cinderella Fusion, It's Cinderella with robots, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:38:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9226994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoDoLaFaMiDoRe/pseuds/SoDoLaFaMiDoRe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/vienn_peridot/pseuds/vienn_peridot
Summary: With a festival for all to attend, a bit of drama, and a lot of meddling, here's Cinderella with Transformers!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy, happy Nollaig na mBan!!
> 
> Also special thanks to Vienn_Peridot, I couldn't have written this without her!

Hound felt out of place and overwhelmed by the crowd. He once again looked at the deep green paint that shone under the crystals, wincing. Logically, he knew he had until the 13th joor before this would all wear off, but he still felt as if at any moment, someone would find out and report him as a fraud. 

In an attempt to settle his nerves, he followed the edge of the room, taking a proffered treat from a waitmech as he attempted to make himself smaller against the wall, peering out from his mask. He knew his Primus-sent helper had used magic, there was no denying the proof, but he still felt that someone would be able to break the illusion spell and the Trine would know and-

Taking a deep vent, he needed to stop panicking. He only had 7 joors, and then it would be over. Why not enjoy it while it lasted? Letting the tasty, dainty cube of sweetened energon jelly melt on his glossa, he looked across the crowd; attempting to see if there was a moment where he could jump in and join the colorful frames in their swirling dance.

For one brief moment, when the crowd parted so he could see across the whole room, he caught a glimpse of blue and white plating, and felt as if his spark stopped entirely. Meeting optics with the stranger through their masks, he couldn’t seem to move his frame until the crowd moved again and the view of the stranger was gone. Spark whirling faster in his chest, his processor spun as he attempted to make sense of what had just come over him. It didn’t feel bad, but his spark had never felt like that before.

Moving closer to the edge of the crowd, he bumped into a stout bot who was stumbling and carousing with a black and white mech, both of them laughing at a joke Hound hadn’t heard.  Hound and the smaller bot were both thrown off balance, knocking them into some nearby bots.  Arms on each side kept him from crashing into a table, and Hound was apologizing before the strangers could get a word in. He felt his plating slick down as he found his balance, looking at the two overcharged mechs whom he’d crashed into.

“Woah mech, no need to apologize. That was our fault too! Are you alright?” The black and white mech quickly patted Hound down, brushing at non-existent dust before sticking out a servo. “Names Meister, and you are?”

Hound took the proffered servo, dim memories coming back of how to behave near nobility. “My designation is Hound. You have my apologies, I didn’t mean to run into you both.” Shaking it firmly, he offered a warm smile to the mechs, turning to the black and orange colored mech. “And your designation is?”

“Trailbreaker, it’s nice to meet you. How are you enjoying the festivities? Have you attempted to join in yet?” Smiling amicably, Trailbreaker looked at the group of dancers as the song changed. Hound followed his gaze and felt the stop-start in his spark as he once again caught eyes with a strange blue and white mech.

With a swell of music the mech disappeared from view, but Hound could still feel his spark hammering. He didn't notice Meister and Trailbreaker's shared look as Meister offered an arm. "Care to dance?"

          "I don't know this song," Hound confessed, the panic rising again that someone would discover he wasn't supposed to be there. The invitation had been to all in the Kingdom, and even then he still felt that he was a gate crasher.

"Well that means I can teach you! I'm sure Prowler won't mind right, Teebs?" Hound could not recognize the proper form of the mentioned mech’s name through all the modifiers of love and affection, but it was easy to tell that 'Prowler' was probably Meister's conjux endura, or else someone very close to the mech.

"You know he won't. Besides, his song's about to end, here's hoping the next one's a good one! Meister..." Trailbreaker had a knowing smirk on his face as he used the mech's designation, "I'll meet you in a while at our table."

"Sure thing mech." Turning to Hound, he took a low bow. "May you grant me the honor of having this dance?" Hound smiled, feeling himself relax slightly as he took the mech’s arm and was led to the floor. The band was resting for a moment, turning their instruments and thumbing through the sheets of music on their stands.

Meister led Hound to the edge of the floor, quickly teaching him the basic stance and the practicing the basic steps most of the songs required. Hound couldn't shake the tug on his spark, giving his plating a small rattle in attempt to stop the mildly uncomfortable feeling as the band began to strike up a tune. It only seemed to grow, making Hound bite the inside of his cheek in an attempt to ignore it.

The dance didn't go as smoothly as it could have. Hound stepped on Meister's pedes multiple times as he attempted to get his frame to work properly with the confusing movements. Meister laughed off his apologies and soon Hound managed to follow along; having fun sailing around the dance floor with the stranger.

As the dance ended, partners were switched as the longer introduction of a different song struck up. Meister quickly ran Hound through the steps. It was a dance that had partners change mecha, luckily with relatively simple steps.  As the music struck up again, they were sailing around the room, and at a particularly heavy beat, Meister linked their elbows, swung around, and Hound felt another mech taking his arm as Meister slipped away into the crowd.

         Turning to face the new mech, Hound almost stopped dead in his tracks. It was the blue and white mech he'd seen across the crowd, piercing yellow eyes seeming to look into his spark behind a cerulean mask that covered his upper faceplates. His spark spun faster, the music seeming to fade from his awareness as it shrunk down to the seemingly the mech's optics and the contact of plating and protoform along the crooks of their arms. Hound stumbled on the step, the other helping him regain his balance without missing a beat.

Just as he was about to speak, ask the mysterious who he was or what was happening, there was another heavy beat and he was whisked back into the hubub of the crowd and the swelling music. Distracted from his surrounding as the song ended; he attempted to control his erratic spark, feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder.

Turning around, the mysterious mech was there, yellow optics still holding that same unreadable expression as he searched Hound's faceplates. Hound felt his spark clench, his own faceplates heating as his frame seemed to stop listening to his processor. 

"May I have this dance?" The stranger asked, doing the same type of bow as Meister had before; on his frame, it seemed to contain a much more controlled grace, compared to the energy and bounce in Meister’s. Hound wordlessly accepted, his spark still doing odd movements in its casing, and soon they were off again, and as more of their plating touched he felt his spark ease somewhat.

As he moved with the other, he couldn’t tear his gaze away, the world shrinking to the mysterious stranger. His field was a kind of gentle calm that, while happy, didn’t feel the need to press and push, just gently mingling with the edges of Hound’s.

Hound felt his internal temperature rise as they continued, and by the end of the dance he could feel his face flushed and coated in a light sheen of coolant as his frame trembled. His processor was light and his pedes lighter as the stranger continued to hold his servos gently.

"Are you alright? Can I get you a drink?" The stranger’s voice sounded like a wind chime, and Hound felt his glossa lock up and it took an eternity for him to find the right words.

"That would be nice, thank you." Strolling to the edge of the dancefloor, the mech led him to the table Hound had spotted, filled with assorted treats and cubes. Hound couldn't even think of what to pick first, overwhelmed by the options presented. The stranger made the choice for him, reaching for two glasses filled with shimmering pink highgrade, the color so light it was translucent as it glinted in the light of the room.

Passing one flute to Hound, the stranger held his glass out, chinking the rims before taking an expectant look at the green mech. Taking a small sip, Hound was nearly floored as it washed across his glossa. It tasted like sunshine, light and smooth as it poured down his intakes. His optics brightened at the taste, the stranger watching him as he took a sip from his own glass. Hound resisted the urge to gulp the entire thing down in favor of thanking the stranger.

“Thank you for the drink, -...” Well, he didn’t know the mech’s name, but something more pressing caught his eye. Behind the noble was a large red and white shuttle, standing a good three heads above the crowd, and next to the shuttle, wing’s flickering pleased as a cybercat with a petrorat, was…

“Starscream.” He could feel his spark, which had been spinning and hopping elatedly, turn to ice in his chestplates, panic stalling his vents as his optics widened under his mask. Any faith the green mech held in the illusion spell disappeared in the fear, and only the shock kept his pedes from bolting. The noble, confused, turned his helm, caught eyes with Starscream, and seemed to read the mech in a milliklick.

    “Follow me.” Placing his still nearly-full flute on the table, he offered his arm to Hound, using the crowd to their advantage to edge along a quieter corner of the room. Seeing a pair of double-doors were left open to the cool night breeze, the stranger led Hound outside, the quiet darkness helping Hound quell the shaking in his spark.

   Stretched beyond the palace was a beautiful crystal maze, spires of all different colors casting a soft glow on fountains and crushed-crystal paths that wound their way along, sometimes ending in dead-ends or looping back. Even without taking a deep breath Hound could smell multiple varieties of crystals from all around Cybertron, and resisted the urge to fully sniff out how many types were in the garden.

   Turning to the stranger, Hound tilted his head in thanks, unable to look into those piercing yellow optics. "I apologize for my reaction, Starscream is..." He didn't know how to explain his problems with the mech without outing his own history. The mech just nodded coolly, gaze softening a fraction as he noted the tracker’s discomfort.

        "It's alright. Would you care to take a stroll with me?" Looking at their joined servos, Hound felt his face flush as he realized their digits had intertwined, palm to palm. Nodding, he walked with the mech, feeling gentle presses against his palm as the mech explained some of the history of the gardens, Hound offering his own comments on the flora and their upkeep, oohing over some that he had only ever seen on datapads.

       Their ambling walk led them near the ornate fountain in the center of the garden, which seemed even more impressively opulent up close.  Hound had seen others walking with the stranger in the garden, but this had to be the largest, easily taller than the shuttle he had seen at the party. The base was made of an opaque white crystal, interlaid with colors ranging from red to purple, casting a rainbow of colorful dots on the surrounding areas. Organic stone benches offered quiet places to sit, hidden from view inside small alcoves cut into the surrounding walls of the maze.

As the stranger led him to a bench, Hound felt the peace on his spark that had settled in during their walk vanish, leaving him feeling off balance and nervous as he sat down with the mech. He didn't even even know the stranger's name! Sitting on the bench, he felt as if his joints were both too tight and too loose, wanting to flee but he found himself unable to muster the will to break the moment.

        The air seemed to still, the only noises being their vents and the tinkling of the crystals, the rush of oils through the fountain. It all felt far too intimate, and Hound shifted in an attempt to put a bit of space between himself and the other mech, pulling his servos from the mech's and folding them in his own lap. He could feel his faceplates heating, but the mech was polite enough not to point it out as Hound attempted to control his venting.

"My apologies, I haven't even learned your designation yet." Hound hoped that hadn't come out sounding as nervous as he felt. The blue mech just gave him a fond look, yellow optics soft and impossibly kind. His faceplates only got warmer in embarrassment.

"My designation is Mirage."

          "Mirage... it suits you. I thought you were too beautiful to be real." Hound felt his face flush as his helm ducked further. That statement just blurted out of his vocalizer, but it was the truth. The mech himself was gorgeous, elegant helm fins and a calm demeanor accentuating the lines of his frame. His field was a gentle presence, but at the admission it rippled with an emotion too quick to name that was gone as soon as it present.

A gentle touch against his servos brought Hound's attention back to Mirage. "I still haven't learned your designation." The mech's voice was softer, and Hound's infrared told him the other mech was also suffering from heated faceplates.

"I-I'm called Hound." 

"Hound... you must be very loyal to those you care about." Hound felt himself heat even more, fans running on low from stress and embarrassment. He felt his spark jump and spin, and he resisted the urge to put a servo over his plating to make sure it wasn’t coming out of his chest-plates. His spark felt bared, even under the protection of his frame.

"I try." His vocalizer felt stuck, and watching the rainbows reflected off the fountain and bouncing from the crystals, he couldn’t stop the nervous twisting in his tanks that made him feel as if he was going to purge.

Taking another glance at Mirage, the mech was just watching, thankfully not pointing out how much of an embarrassment he was making himself. He found himself meeting his gaze, and his frame seemed to have a mind of its own as he leaned in closer, Mirage doing so as well. They were close enough that their lipplates almost brushed when a loud clang rang out through the garden. 

       Looking up in fear, Hound could see the large clock tower looming imposingly above the palace, heralding the arrival of midnight. His tank fell to his pedes, the mech had said-

"It's just the thirteenth joor, don't worry." Mirage noted, gentle servos reaching out to smooth his arm plates and calm the flared plating, Hound's spark whirling as his processor raced. He had to leave before his gift disappeared. 

Hastily muttering apologies, he pulled his servo from the noble's grip, half of him wanting to stay as a hurt look washed across the mech's faceplates,  the other half reminding him how short a klick was. Shouting more apologies, he moved to run, kicking up some of the crushed-crystals filling the path.

Mirage grabbed his servo again, halting him as the fifth rang sounded out. Feeling awful even as he did it, he shoved the mech to the ground, using the valuable time to turn the twisting paths of the maze to his advantage and following the scent of more wild woods. 

Tripping over a root at the edge of the maze, Hound fell, the mask flying off and smashing on the ground. Wincing, he made a grab for it as he scrambled to his feet and shifted into alt-mode, pelting down the roadway as he felt the familiar itch of tar caked in his joints return. Thought’s of Mirage’s hurt face ran through his processor, but he was able to shove the guilt aside by the time he returned to the house.

Coming upon the dark windows, his processor once again began listing chores he needed finished, especially now to avoid suspicion from the trine. Going to grab the bucket of solvent and mop, he blinked as a datapad was laid on the lid. Flicking it on, there was a hastily-scribbled note that took a moment to decipher.

**_I know you’re going to be tired after the party, the chores have been taken care of._ **

Loosening some of the tension in his body, Hound smiled, the giddy feeling returning. Pulling the mask from his subspace, he winced at the jagged break down the middle, but even that mar didn’t diminish that he still had a keepsake from the night, all for himself! Grin widening, he moved to the back of the kitchen and looked for a hiding space. It was rare for the trine to enter this portion of the house, but he didn't want to take a chance.

Across the Kingdom, Mirage stood dumbfounded, plating nicked and scratched from the crystals. His processor spun as it attempted to parse what had happened with the strange, alluring mech. Consort Jazz, having noticed when one of his few close contacts in the court hadn't been seen for a while, had come looking for him.

Looking at the mask, he let out a low whistle, startling the noble and grin growing as he took in the flush on the mech's face.

"What'd you do? Turn invisible and scare the mech off?" Mirage didn't respond, optics still locked in the distance. Sighing, Jazz snapped a finger in front of the mech's faceplates, smiling as his confidant startled. "Mirage, what happened?" Taking a second look at the mask, it  _ did  _ seem familiar.

“I don’t know, he just shoved me over and ran.” Looking once again at the broken ceramic piece, Mirage subspaced it and stood up, looking at his scuffed paint with the same distant look he’d ignored Jazz and Trailbreaker with. One servo subconsciously clenched over his sparkchamber, feeling that the delicate metal was much warmer even through his plating.

“Mirage, you sure you’re alright?” Jazz protectively clapped a servo on the mech’s shoulder, moving to steer him back inside before all their absences were noticed and commented upon. Mirage could get away with disappearing from the party for a time, but the Consort to the Ruler of Praxus could not vanish so easily from the festivities and their guests.

“I think so. I don’t know why, my chestplates feel weird.” Jazz stiffened at his words, worried servos clenching tight against his shoulders. 

“Mirage, what happened?” The mech’s plating still felt normal, minus the heat of his chestplates, but one could never be too sure if there was a potential for poison. “Was any of your food tainted?”

“No, it’s not that kind of hurt.” Reaching out a shaky servo to soothe his friend, Trailbreaker came up on his other side to help support him up the stairs on the side of the palace. Luckily Mirage still had his footing under himself, even with his spark’s erratic behavior. “I just… It doesn’t feel like it’s been moving properly, ever since I saw him.”

“Mirage, who’s  _ him _ ?” Jazz’s visor had a dangerous glint as he summoned a guard to let Prowl know where his Consort was going. Slipping down a side hallway to avoid the crowds of the party, Jazz led Mirage to a small sitting room and helped him drop on the couch. With the mech remaining upright, he claimed his own seat across from Mirage as Trailbreaker took a place next to the ill mech.

“I-I forget, I think his designation was-,” Mirage trailed off, obviously lost in thought and yet unable to find the designation he was looking for. “I don’t know, my memory files feel corrupted. All the feedback is coming back hazy, but only where it pertains to the mech.” Neither Mirage nor Trailbreaker caught the knowing look that flashed across Jazz’s face, before he abruptly stood up.

“Trailbreaker, you mind keeping an eye on him? I need to get back to the party to start seeing off the guests with Prowler, and I need to speak with Mirage when I get back. If anything happens, you have my comm signal.” Slipping out of the room, he allowed himself a worried frown while he strode down the hallway, nudging at his bond with Prowl. 

His bondmate sent his own nudge along the bond, a tendril of curiosity as to what Jazz needed during the end of the party. It pushed against the darker emotions building up in his spark, soothing any jagged edges as Jazz entered the room, a large grin plastered on his face that became a little more genuine as he took his place next to his bonded to personally thank the more higher-caste guests for their time at the party,  relaxing as a doorwing brushed against his back in concern.

With the general festivities finally over, the guests began to make their leave of the party, some of the commoners who indulged a little too much on the highgrade needing to be escorted to the gates by the guards. Turning to his bonded, Prowl let a flicker of worry shine in his optics even as his face remained a neutral mask.  _ Jazz _ . The prod across the bond implored his mate to share what the problem was.

“Prowl, I need you to come with me.” Walking back down the small side hall, only lit by their biolights and the lighting shining from Cybertron’s two moons, Jazz opened the door to find Mirage and Trailbreaker sleeping on the couch, Mirage’s servos back to their protective fists clenched over his spark plating. Whistling a low note at his two companions, the mech’s onlined quickly, Mirage’s optics more bright-white than their usual healthy yellow.

“Mirage, from the top, I need you to tell Prowler and me what was going on with that strange mech and how your spark’s feeling now.” It took Mirage a moment to see his friend and his conjux standing a few feet from the couch, but a tilt of Prowl’s wings let him know it wasn’t a time for some of the more rigorous formalities.

“Well…” Starting from the top, when his story had finished Prowl had a thoughtful look on his face, the small tremors in his doorwings letting the others know his TacNet had latched onto the case and was attempting to build any possible connections between the mech he could barely describe, the evenings, the guests, and any other potential clues.

“Something about this seems wrong, but I know one reason that could explain why your spark isn’t feeling right. Jazz?” Looking to his consort for help, Jazz shot him a fond smile before turning his attention back to Mirage. 

“It seems Primus decided to give you a blessing."

\----

Waking early the next morning, Hound still had trouble wiping the grin from his faceplates as he prepped the Trine’s morning energon, wrapping his portion of the mask in a cleaning rag and hiding it in a locked cabinet. None of the trine bothered to enter the kitchen most days, ordering Hound to fetch their fuel, meaning it was as safe a hiding spot as any in the house.

Setting the breakfast at the table, he was still lost in thought over Mirage and their near-kiss in the gardens. So lost in thought, he didn’t do his usual thorough check to make sure all of the spices were on the table. Greeting the tired trine respectfully as they came in, he snuck downstairs to make sure their bath-solvents would be the right temperature after the meal.

Starscream seemed to be mulling his own experience at the party over far too much to notice Hound feeling much more animated and happy, even with the supposed drudgery of the day. Skywarp was nursing a massive headache from helping himself to the highgrade, and Thundercracker was too busy reading from a storypad to pay attention to anything around him.

Not even Starscream’s digging insults as he cleared the dishes away from the table could drag the lightness in his spark down. Even with his attempts to hide it, it was clear something good had happened the night before. And that couldn’t stand in the presence of Starscream, not when it could mean losing control over somemech he considered his servant.

“Hound, did anything happen last night while we were gone?” His red optics seemed to be filled with venom, even with the sweet tone that had taken to his scratchy voice couldn’t hide the danger in his words. It was as if a record had been scratched, the Trine’s attention on their servant, with reactions ranging from curiosity, to menacing, to bored. Hound resisted the tremor forming in his servos that told him to drop the empty cubes and run.

“I just had a good recharge, that’s all.” The lie came quick, a little too quick.

Optic’s narrowing, Starscream reached into his subspace, pulling out a familiar bundle of cloth. “Well, I found a little more than, ‘a good recharge,’ when a stupid groundpounder forgot to put my favorite flavoring on the table. Care to explain Hound?” There went the sweet grin again, and Hound gave serious thought to throwing the dishware and making a break for the door. His tires itched, every instinct screaming to flee.

But Starscream still had his half of the mask. The only memento to prove that last night wasn’t just a figment of his imagination. Steeling himself, he tried to draw from a well of courage he didn’t actually have, attempting to still the trembling of his plating as it slicked against his protoform from stress. But, same as every orn of every vorn, he wasn’t the one with the power in the house.

“No. I don’t care to explain.” He didn’t know what was emboldening this change in behavior, but something in his spark told him this is what needed to be done. Even when Starscream had that look in his eyes that told him he was going to pay for whatever he said. Tossing the mask to the side, Starscream stalked towards Hound, the look of fury marking every line of his frame rooting the green mech in place. 

Clawed servos reaching out quick as lightening, Starscream backhanded Hound across the face hard enough his audials were ringing. Crashing to the floor, the green mech curled in on himself protect his vitals from the blows raining on his body. He couldn’t even tell if he was screaming or not due to the white noise clogging his audials. 

Something clawed into the plating on the back of his neck, and he felt himself being dragged until the air changed, a musty smell hitting his chemoreceptors. The cooler breeze was his last warning before he felt himself tumbling down a flight of stairs, plating denting as he finally offlined from pain in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. 

The last thing his sensors registered was a soft thump against his plating before his processor shorted out from the stress and pain of the situation. 

Glancing at the form at the bottom of the stairs, Starscream turned his nose up at the mess and slammed the door, locking it before moving back to the dining room where Thundercracker and Skywarp were still sitting. “Well, I feel like a bath. How about you two?”

\----

It hadn’t taken long for Prowl to figure out what he could of the situation, TacNet spitting out a few of the most likely scenarios for what had transpired and potential identities for the mysterious mech. Whenever Mirage had been pressed for details, he’d only been able to give vague descriptions, processor hurting whenever he tried to focus on his memories.

“Ya think magic was involved?” Jazz had pulled his conjux to the side as Mirage and Trailbreaker napped, all of them tired from the night before. Prowl’s doorwings twitched, but the slight movement was more than enough confirmation for his partner. 

“Yikes. Recognize which kind mech?”

“Not yet, but this seems a lot more innate than Polyhexian Hexes.”

“Well, what do we do?”

“Mirage still has that mask from the mech, yes?”

“Yea? What are you suggesting mech, that we search the whole City-State for the mech?”

“If we have that piece, we don’t have to.”

\----

Hound awoke sore and in pain. He could feel that some of his back plating had cracked, the metal dented and warped in other parts. His right optic refused to online, the derma around it swollen painfully shut. His bottom lip was split down the middle, stale energon coagulating in his mouth. Taking a shaky vent, he offlined his good optic from the pain as his fans rattled.

Hearing strange voices upstairs, he sat up and waited for his gyros to stabilize, seeing the  mask on the ground next to him. It was chipped, but still thankfully in one piece. Picking it up, he resisted the urge to cry as he stowed it in subspace and looked at the stairs he needed to climb. Tears had never done him good after a beating, and he had work to do.

Every inch of his frame protested as he began to crawl, placing one aching servo in front of the other as he shook with the effort not to cry out. Reaching the top after what seemed like an eternity, he took a rattling vent at the door, reaching weakly for the handle and turning his wrist to move the knob. The knob just wiggled weakly, refusing to budge more thanks to the locks holding it in place. Hound just thunked his head against the door, offlining his optics from the pain.

He felt the tears well up, unable to resist any more. He tried so hard to be good, be kind, do the right thing, and knowing the trine, he was going to offline alone in a basement. Nobody would ever bother to look for him, not even Mirage. He had spent years working and struggling to prove his worth, to prove he had a place in the world, and he stifled a sob as the tears flowed from his good optic. He was gonna succumb to his injuries and hunger alone in a basement.

He didn’t notice the clicks of the lock until the door opened, revealing a familiar mech from last night. Meister, although something was wrong. His visor was gone, pale-white optics seemingly looking through Hound before the mech relaxed a margin, a warm smile creeping on his faceplates.

“Prowler was right, same as always.” Bending down, Meister took in the sorry state of Hound’s frame and slipped his visor on, a dark look crossing his features. In another room of the house, Prowl’s doorwings perked, his cool gaze turning to ice as he looked to the trine who had “invited” them into their home when the King’s entourage had appeared at their door. 

“If you’ll excuse me.” Prowl offered no explanation as he followed his conjux’s cues, finding a beaten and bloody mech leaning against a doorway, clearly showing signs of a fall down the stairs, and from the servo-mark apparent in the bruising, a beating too. Prowl’s doorwings hitched, plating flaring with anger as the trine’s leader Starscream realized what Jazz and Prowl had stumbled upon.

The Seeker’s faceplates paled, there was no way he could make an excuse for having an injured mech in his basement, especially to the King and his conjux. They didn’t have to know about Hound’s half of the mask, this was already looking bad enough. When the mech weakly pulled the bundle out of his subspace before falling unconscious again, Starscream debated jetting away and never looking back.

\----

Mirage fretted and paced in the private room they were using to discuss the delicate situation while waiting for Hound to wake from stasis. The mech had been in bad shape, filth and grime covering years of scarring, malnutrition, and poor wound care. Seeing the mask whole together again had seemed to trigger his memories of the night coming back, even if no one else could fully remember Hound. Being able to remember the mech’s fears over Starscream had been the clue Prowl and Jazz needed to find the mech.

The mech was kept in stasis as the medics worked on him, needing to remove and replace entire sections of armor that were damaged beyond repair. Struts were weak and lacking in minerals that had clearly been deficient for a long time. Mirage felt guilty for the suffering the mech faced, and anger at himself for not trying harder to make the mech stay. Jazz had been coming in intermittently with updates on how Hound was fairing, in between consulting Prowl on how to best proceed with the seekers. 

Trailbreaker was acting as a calming influence, reminding Mirage to sit and breathe and the mech was safe. Guilt wasn’t going to help the mech, not stressing himself into a crash would. Mirage sat next to Trailbreaker with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers and staring at the floor in deep thought. He felt like he was acting ridiculous, even under the ridiculous circumstances. He barely knew the mech, and yet…

“I don’t think any of us gave a proper explanation,” Jazz was back in the room like a wraith, clearly able to read Mirage’s thoughts that the noblemech was failing to hide. His visor was off, something rare he only did when he was sure he could trust his surroundings and those around him. “About what happened last night.” Jazz was familiar with magic, Polyhex having its own strain that most mechs were at least basically adept in. He had actually been a maestro with hexes, and with careful discussion with Prowl, decided to reveal how they both knew so much about the “blessing” of last night.

“Mirage, Trailbreaker and yourself will be the first and hopefully last to know this story. I do not want it moving beyond these walls, understood?” Prowl’s wings were in a heavy downward slope, highlighting for the mechs just how serious he was. Jazz held his bonded’s servo firmly as they sat down, sending affection through the bond as Prowl sent  _ affection/appreciation/care _ back. 

“Our relationship didn’t begin the way we told you, or even the official story.” Mirage and Trailbreaker had been told a different series of events than the general nobility and public, about Prowl sneaking out of the castle one night to run his own investigation on some nobility he suspected and running into Jazz in the streets.

“It starts the same way, Prowl was out in the streets and we had a chance meeting. He was my target.” Mirage didn’t like the tone used when Jazz said target, the modifiers making it seem as if Prowl was prey during a hunt, not a mech. “I used to be an assassin for my House, taking down any mech that stood in their way.” Mirage had known Jazz had training in things most nobles didn’t, but considering he’d tried to kill the mech he was now bonded to, that seemed to be too much to believe.

“Luckily, due to the blessing’s influence, I managed to subdue Jazz and the rest is history.” Prowl gave his Consort such a fond look of affection Mirage almost couldn’t believe his audials. Jazz had tried to kill Prowl?

“I think I still have the scar from where you got me Prowler.” Jazz laughed good naturedly. “Mirage, what we’re trying to say is don’t let your worries stop you from trying. I know this is confusing, but the mech’ll pull through just fine. After that, you and him seem smart enough to work out how you want to go from there.” Mirage looked his friend in the face, finding no hint of a lie stowed there. 

“How soon do you think the medics will have him awaken from stasis?” Mirage felt safe showing his worry here, knowing the mechs around him wouldn’t use it or hold it against him. 

“He’ll awaken soon, Prowl and I have been comming the medics. When they say it’s alright we’ll be able to take you to see him.” Mirage’s spark jumped in joy for that, he placed a servo on it to try and calm it’s erratic swirling, a light blush blooming on his faceplates. Jazz just laughed, Prowl cracking a rare smile as Trailbreaker clapped Mirage on the backplates.

\----

Hound awoke to a bright light shining on his optics, making him wince and attempt to move away from the light. A strong servo gently held his chin, smelling strongly of sterilizing fluids and cleanser. “Don’t worry, I’m a medic. My designations Hook. You’ve been through the Pit the last couple of joors. I’m just checking to make sure you don’t have any delayed-onset processor injuries.” Most of the medics words went right over Hound’s helm, but their cadence was comforting and lulled him back to the haze of wakefulness but not quite alertness.

Hook continued to check his frame and plating, and through the haze Hound realized his plating felt different. The sticky tar that stained his plating and gummed up his joints didn’t feel there anymore. He wasn’t in pain which was a relief, but he could still feel some damage in his optic and back that hadn’t fully repaired yet. The drugs kept him in a numb haze, and he couldn’t feel his faceplates around his damaged optic.

“Are you experiencing any errors?” No. “I’m going to need to check your stabilizers to make sure no other systems were damaged, tell me if you feel anything.” Announcing his actions, Hook went through a series of range of motion and pain tests, gently tapping the plating with different pressures to make sure Hound’s processor was connected with the rest of his frame. 

Satisfied with the results, Hook took a final survey of his patient. “Would you like me to raise the bed so you can sit up?” With a nod of assent the berth slowly raised so Hound could see the rest of the room, an apparently-empty medbay with two neat rows of clean berths ready and awaiting potential patients, such as himself.

But how did he end up here? The last he remembered clearly was falling, and pain, and flashes of blue, red, black and white. His processor ached as he attempted to look closer at the memories, but he was still confused. Where was he now? Hook noticed the spark rate monitor spiking as Hound slowly felt a sense of panic and dread rise. Was this one of Starscream’s plans to remind him just who was in charge., just how little chance he had of ever escaping them? He felt his vents hitch, optical fluid welling up in his still-functioning optic as he shied away from Hook’s reaching servos.

Before Hook could calm him down Jazz, Prowl, Trailbreaker and Mirage walked in, the groups attention focusing on the medic and the crying mech. Mirage’s spark leapt for joy as he saw Hound, re-learning the mech’s face and posture, mentally matching him up with the mech he had met at the party. But it sunk low in its chamber when he noticed the tears and hitching sobs. He knew the mech had been found in rough shape, but he had the feeling this was only the beginning of the ordeal the mech had been through.

Hound felt his spark twinge, snapping his head up and locking optics with Mirage. He felt the need to bolt, to leave, but the look on the mech’s face seemed to hold him down in the bed. His optics were kind, and without the mask Hound was able to fully take in Mirage’s face, as well as he could seeing out of only one optic. He felt something in his spark click, crying tapering off to hitching vents as he looked to the other for, comfort? Hope? He wasn’t sure himself.

“Oh thank Primus you’re alright.” Was all Mirage could manage to get out, spark feeling as if it was going to spin out of its chamber, longing for the other mech. He didn’t know whether or not he was allowed to touch the mech, but he stepped within field range and gently pressed his own in light, friendly contact. Jazz and Prowl looked on, servos clasped and digits entwined.

<This is always my favorite part, Prowler.>

<It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pulled the strings, Jazz.>

\----

Hound was still in shock that this was his life now. After the party, when Starscream had thrown him down the stairs, he thought he was going to offline cold and alone. Now, he had never felt more alive. Getting to know Mirage properly had been amazing. The mech was kind, and smart, and had a dry sense of humor that made subtle cracks about those around him without ever changing expression. But when they were away from prying optics, it was easy for Hound to get genuine smiles from the mech.

“Hound, how did you not recognize Jazz was Meister? He’s not exactly a hidden figure.” They had found themselves back in the garden, cuddling on the bench they had first sat on the night they met. The air was peaceful, the fountain once again bathing the night in its rainbow glow. 

“I wasn’t able to leave the house without permission, so I never really met others or learned about things outside of the trine’s gossip. But most nights I would try to sneak out to the woods and wander. I felt safe there.” Hound would still have spikes of anxiety when talking about his former home, but Mirage easily soothed it with a gentle squeeze of a hug and keeping his field calm and steady.

The clock in the tower began to chime out, causing both mechs to jump in surprise and look at the clocktower as the face pointed to midnight. Mirage turned to Hound, a smile on his face as he looked at him with utter adoration. “It’s midnight.”

Leaning in, they kissed, holding one another closer. And Hound knew he would never want to leave again.

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you all think? Thank you for reading!


End file.
